Post by rasputin on Feb 23, 2005 2:45:49 GMT -4
Casper was a teacher -- all things living can excel despite hardship, disadvantage, and the hostility of fate.
However, nothing can last forever, and Casper passed today into the ultimate.
Born blind, and apparently blind throughout life, Casper still got along remarkably for a gerbil. His eyes never developed although one lid would open slightly when he was excited and the other sometimes slightly when he had cleaned his face. He did not respond to visual cues at any time, which made dealing with Casper different from dealing with most other gerbils. Most notably, Casper hardly ever spooked when other gerbils did, such as when I would abruptly sit up in bed at an unusual noise. Casper would continue eating or snooping or playing oblivious to the concocted fears of the others. Only on a few occasions do I recall Casper thumping his feet, and those times were during introductions and encounters with unfamiliar gerbil scents.
Paired with his mother from birth because he did not exhibit sexable characteristics until his ninth week, Casper was re-paired with his brother and littermate Corum. Corum and Casper lived together until the week before their first birthday, when Casper survived Corum's abrupt and apparently sudden death.
Casper lived alone for almost a month before being paired with his uncles, Sandy and Dusty. Although I refer to them as his uncles, they may instead have been his half-brothers, as their specific relation to Casper's sire Cole was never known to myself or any available Pet Supplies Plus staff.
The grouping of the solo male into the existing pair was successful, though it should not serve as an example to others because of Casper's uniquely agreeable personality and his blindness, which may have made him more desperate for the attention of others of his own species, in contravention of the normal experience of established groups being closed to newcomers.
Months later, Casper, Sandy, and Dusty were joined by Casper's littermate Lear, who had been rejected by his littermates -- previously a solid, peaceful group opf five. Lear is nearly identical to Casper, and has similar temperament and blindness. The successful grouping of a solo male into a pre-existing male trio is similarly not typical by the accounts I've read, and is as much a testament to Casper and Lear as it is to the remarkable temperament of Sandy and Dusty.
Casper was shivering and rolled up in his tank Monday afternoon, without apparent cause or external injury, and did not respond to stimuli except to sometimes thrash around as if in great pain, and to attempt to bite my hand. He did not have strength to do more than gnaw at me in futility. He chased his tail in clockwise circles and rolled around at times as if he could not balance or was in pain at trying to do so. I offered him food and water, which he would not take. That night, he eagerly tried to take food in the form of a scrap of lean turkey breast, but could only chew at it in futility, ultimately getting only a bit down and abandoning the rest despite further offers. I kept him with me throughout the night, to keep him warm since he was not maintaining his internal temperature.
This morning, he was taken to my household's preferred veterinarian, Dr. Deck, who took him in for the day to see if subcutaneous fluids and nourishment would bring him back from a then-catatonic state. I could not stay with him throughout the whole day, and Dr. Deck called at 3:30 to inform me that Casper had briefly roused himself and passed away, a few minutes after a calcium supplement.
Although I would have preferred a different outcome, I understand that Casper's time had come. I offered everything I knew in the attempt to save him, but when it is time, the inevitable does not delay for our feeble intervention.
The lives that touch us can carry great meaning and impact, and Casper's was a life that will echo in mine. It is my profound hope that the cosmos is such that someday decades from now we will meet again under better circumstances.
However, nothing can last forever, and Casper passed today into the ultimate.
Born blind, and apparently blind throughout life, Casper still got along remarkably for a gerbil. His eyes never developed although one lid would open slightly when he was excited and the other sometimes slightly when he had cleaned his face. He did not respond to visual cues at any time, which made dealing with Casper different from dealing with most other gerbils. Most notably, Casper hardly ever spooked when other gerbils did, such as when I would abruptly sit up in bed at an unusual noise. Casper would continue eating or snooping or playing oblivious to the concocted fears of the others. Only on a few occasions do I recall Casper thumping his feet, and those times were during introductions and encounters with unfamiliar gerbil scents.
Paired with his mother from birth because he did not exhibit sexable characteristics until his ninth week, Casper was re-paired with his brother and littermate Corum. Corum and Casper lived together until the week before their first birthday, when Casper survived Corum's abrupt and apparently sudden death.
Casper lived alone for almost a month before being paired with his uncles, Sandy and Dusty. Although I refer to them as his uncles, they may instead have been his half-brothers, as their specific relation to Casper's sire Cole was never known to myself or any available Pet Supplies Plus staff.
The grouping of the solo male into the existing pair was successful, though it should not serve as an example to others because of Casper's uniquely agreeable personality and his blindness, which may have made him more desperate for the attention of others of his own species, in contravention of the normal experience of established groups being closed to newcomers.
Months later, Casper, Sandy, and Dusty were joined by Casper's littermate Lear, who had been rejected by his littermates -- previously a solid, peaceful group opf five. Lear is nearly identical to Casper, and has similar temperament and blindness. The successful grouping of a solo male into a pre-existing male trio is similarly not typical by the accounts I've read, and is as much a testament to Casper and Lear as it is to the remarkable temperament of Sandy and Dusty.
Casper was shivering and rolled up in his tank Monday afternoon, without apparent cause or external injury, and did not respond to stimuli except to sometimes thrash around as if in great pain, and to attempt to bite my hand. He did not have strength to do more than gnaw at me in futility. He chased his tail in clockwise circles and rolled around at times as if he could not balance or was in pain at trying to do so. I offered him food and water, which he would not take. That night, he eagerly tried to take food in the form of a scrap of lean turkey breast, but could only chew at it in futility, ultimately getting only a bit down and abandoning the rest despite further offers. I kept him with me throughout the night, to keep him warm since he was not maintaining his internal temperature.
This morning, he was taken to my household's preferred veterinarian, Dr. Deck, who took him in for the day to see if subcutaneous fluids and nourishment would bring him back from a then-catatonic state. I could not stay with him throughout the whole day, and Dr. Deck called at 3:30 to inform me that Casper had briefly roused himself and passed away, a few minutes after a calcium supplement.
Although I would have preferred a different outcome, I understand that Casper's time had come. I offered everything I knew in the attempt to save him, but when it is time, the inevitable does not delay for our feeble intervention.
The lives that touch us can carry great meaning and impact, and Casper's was a life that will echo in mine. It is my profound hope that the cosmos is such that someday decades from now we will meet again under better circumstances.